Adventures in Parenting
by Laughingly The Lark
Summary: Formerly 'Batman is a Father' A few glimpses through out time of Bruce Wayne's experiences with his 'children'.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own Batman, Detective Comics, Legends of the Dark Knight, Nightwing, Robin, Batgirl, or any of the lovely DC comics I can't afford but covet anyway.

Note: This little piece started out as a prolog for one of the Batman fanfictions I've been working on, but it kind of took on a life of its own. Because it seemed to be complete in-and-of-itself, I decided to post it as a one shot, although I'm thinking of adding some short chapters of actual stories from throughout Batman's experiences in childrearing.

**He is the Batman**

He is the Dark Knight. He is the world's greatest detective. He is Gotham's protector. He is one of the Justice League's most valued and prized leaders. He is ever the loner with family of followers. He is a son, ever morning his parent's loss. He is the new life of child's heart struck dead long ago by the sound of gun. He is the superhero most likely to be voted "Desperately in need of a shrink" He is an enigma. He is grim and stern, for the task is great. He fights for justice. He fights as penance for survivor's guilt. He fights, that no other should feel the strength of his pain. He is immersed in the darkness so that light might prevail.

He is Batman.

His shadow frightens criminals to lengths no other vigilante has reached. His fighting skills are legendary. His tools of the trade are the envy of all in tights. His cause brings loyalty and obedience in all who follow in his path. His glare is rumored to turn errant individuals to stone with its sharp gaze. His plans are thorough and almost faultlessly perfect. His calling causes tragedy and difficulty for those in his love life. His mask is the face he was born with. His double life is a constant struggle to balance Bruce Wayne with The Bat.

He is Batman.

He saw his child in the eyes of a boy filled with grief. He saw his future in a flash of red and green and yellow mixed with god-awful puns. He saw his greatest fear in a young man's injury and tried to push it all away. He saw a second chance in redheaded gall and eagerness. And watched it die in blood, explosions and a parent's worst nightmare. Realization slowly came with another dark-haired boy, and words beyond his years. Batman needs a Robin. Batman needs a son. A girl who grew up with no words taught him something of innocence again.

They drive him crazy. They fight with him. They stand with him. They learn from him. They keep him sane to fight the fight. _They love him_

He is a Father

In the end, though many might forget… One fact remains undisputed, unignorable, most relevant to his entire being….

**Batman is a father.**


	2. Hope

**Hope Ignites**

Summery: Alfred watches as a small boy teaches Bruce about hope.Bruce doesn't quite realize the significance this has on his life or his soul.

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Alfred Pennyworth sat next to the bed in the nursery, keeping vigil over the small dark-haired boy in his charge. It had been a bad night again. Just like many bad nights he had weathered through with his first charge. Master Bruce had been even more withdrawn and when he grew older had shrugged off Alfred's attempts to comfort him. Yes, this experience was certainly bringing back memories. With the young master's crusade consuming so much of the night hours Alfred was on "Nightmare Duty" a fair portion of the time. Sometimes he woke sobbing, sometimes as tonight screaming inconsolably, too hysterical to sleep until he cried himself to sleep in Alfred's arms. Although Master Dick had been asleep for almost half an hour now, he was loath to leave him just yet, incase the dreams began again.

"Another nightmare?"

Sometimes it still shocked him how Master Bruce could come up behind him so soundlessly. One of many skills the young master had acquired over the years. However, as any well trained butler, Alfred never gave away his surprise at one of these silent approaches.

"We did not pass a pleasant night." The major domo understated quietly.

Taking a cursory look at his employer he noticed the stiff way the young man held himself and decided that tea and bandages were in order. He pointedly lifted an eyebrow at the master, who was engrossed in staring at his young ward as though he had never seen the boy before.

"I trust you tended your injuries before changing clothes and coming up?"

Bruce lifted his head and looked at him

"Yes, I put on bandages, Alfred."

"Very well then, I'll fetch the tea"

As he prepared the tray, Alfred pondered the melancholy mood he seemed to have fallen into. It did seem rather out of character, he generally left gloomy thoughts and brooding to Master Bruce's abundant attention to the subject. His dry cynical sense of humor usually gave him ample opportunity to express somewhat negative thoughts without allowing them to unduly influence him.

It wasn't that Dick Grayson's situation was so depressing, he'd been through it before and managed to focus on the good he could do rather than the horror of it all. And Master Bruce himself seemed to be in a better place than the dark spiral of revenge he was starting down before the boy had entered their lives. It was the struggle of looking at a the young boy's sorrow together with the effects of such a grief almost twenty years later, that made him wonder if Master Dick would be able to recover more or be stuck in the same place of self-blame and penance that made up Batman's world.

By the time he returned tray in hand, the young master had taken his place in the chair next to the bed, a wisp of longing in his face as he tucked the blankets more securely around the sleeping acrobat.

"He asked me if they get any better."

Bruce Wayne's eyes looked up at him, not the cool eyes of Batman that so often greeted Alfred's gaze.

"I told him they get less frequent over time. I'm not sure I was very honest with him. Can I really say they've gotten better? Can you honestly say **I've **gotten better?"

The agonized blue eyes turned away and Alfred slipped the cup of tea into the hero's hand, waiting for the boy to continue. Bruce's response to his own rhetorical question was barely a whisper.

"Sometimes, I wonder if I did the right thing taking him in. I…I'm not his parents. I'm not a parent at all. I wanted to do something to help him, but…surely there's someone who could do so much better. I thought maybe the training would help. Take his mind off of it. Keep him busy with the challenge of trying to keep up with Batman's abilities, but I'm not sure it's enough…."

Moved by the unusual show of vulnerability, Alfred felt the need the reassure the young man.

"Master Bruce. Master Richard is doing remarkably well given the situation of his parent's loss and although I'll admit I had reservations about your thought process in taking on the challenge of a child, much less training him in the arts of your crusade, which I you'll remember I had many concerns about when the first young man in my care began preparing for in earnest, I believe at the moment this is as good place for the young master as any. The important thing is to love and care for Master Dick to the best of our abilities. My only concern is his eagerness to join you on your evening activities. Fighting criminals is not the most healthy activity for a boy of his age, nor the safest either."

Bruce sipped the tea thoughtfully.

"He needs the challenge of doing something about what happened, I won't let him focus on revenge, but fighting crime isn't nessisarily a bad thing to focus on. And I won't let him come with me until he's fully ready, Alfred. I promise. Besides, the boy's a natural, and I'll keep a close eye on him. With good training, protecting him from injury shouldn't be too much of a problem. It's protecting him from the pain and emptiness I'm worried about! How can I help him from it when I can't even rid myself of them?"

Memories flashed through his mind as Alfred listened. A boy with despair and grief written in his face. Determination and tenacity as he prepared himself for a task years yet ahead of him. Slowly watching the child he raised being swallowed by a dark crusade for justice, until at times all that seemed to remain was Batman. Watching Bruce Wayne become only a name for a puppet to fool people and protect the Bat. The balance distance between justice and revenge becoming smaller and small as time went by….

And then Alfred thought of Dick. He thought of the emotion in Bruce Wayne's eyes as he saw himself in the boy. He saw all the determination of Batman's immovable will turned on aiding and supporting this young boy. He thought of the smile of praise on his face as he watched Dick master a defensive move and add to it with his own gymnastic style. Alfred had never thought much of people who added children rashly to an already difficult situation, thinking it would fix everything. A crying baby did not help a broken marriage. An exuberant child running around did not add self-esteem to an insecure parent. But perhaps there was some truth in the notion that loving a child can help heal a lost and broken soul.

"Perhaps, Master Bruce, together you will help each other."

Still a little unconvinced, Bruce responded tiredly.

"Perhaps."

Bruce ruffled the hair on small boy's head

"We should get some sleep too, old friend."

The master was still unsure of his place in this boy's life, but Alfred's mood had lifted. Even in darkness that surrounded them, hope shown brightly. As one boy struggled to deal with the tragedy that had become irrefutably a part of his life, other boy from long ago, with the same grief in his eyes, was finally starting to heal. It had taken a child of his own to bring his child back to the land of the living, and after performing the miracle of stealing Batman's the heart, healing from his own scars should be quite manageable for such a special young man. Dick Grayson would be alright in time. And perhaps with his help….Even Bruce Wayne would be as well….

End.


	3. Growing

**Author's Note: Children have a hard time dealing with change sometimes: the change around them, the physical, emotional, and mental changes of growing up, but most of the time parents have an even harder time dealing with the fact that their children are growing up and developing into whole different individuals. I don't see why superhero parents would be any different, in fact, I believe many of the comic books indicate that it's a particular problem for child sidekicks and their mentors, who you'll notice are often the main or only parent figure in their lives.**

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**Growing Up**

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Batman stood on the roof of one of Gotham City's highest buildings, watching his young partner fly through the air on grappling hooks. In the few years since Dick Grayson came to live with Bruce Wayne, Robin had become more than just a world class acrobat, but one of the best fighters in the world. At just thirteen, he was fully prepared to work side by side with the world's greatest detective in his crusade against crime. He no longer need to be constantly watched and guided in a fight, but was now a great asset in difficult situations. And as much as Batman failed to admit it to anyone, his presence in all areas of his life made both Batman and Bruce's lives a happier and more fulfilling existence.

The Batman sprung from his perch and sailed after his young ward. It was time to find some more criminals. The wait wasn't long, only a few streets over the sounds of a fight rang out of a side alley. Batman landed on a warehouse one side while Robin perched on the building on the other side, preparing for the attack. Batman's lip curled, 'drug dealers.' They were trying to get money out of a young junky by beating up a younger boy, probably his brother. Two young thugs held down the older boy, two were hitting you smaller one, and a fifth, obviously the leader, was taunting the junkie that this was the sort of lesson he needed about paying up.

As Batman jumped, spreading out his cape in anticipation of the landing next to the two thugs on top of the young boy, Robin was already landing on the ringleader and sending Batarangs towards the two restraining the older boy, who was struggling to come to his brother's aid.

"You think dealing crack and beating up little kids is fun? Why don't you combine the two and let me take a crack at you!"

As Batman subdued the two holding the boy, Robin flipped backwards gaining height and landing on the railing of the warehouse entrance behind him. Gloved hands had reached for his belt before his feet had even landed, and now launched projectiles at the rising ringleader and the thug still standing next to the junkie. The first collapsed as he was quickly bound by the nets springing from the small package that landed at his chest, while the second promptly lost unconsciousness from the blow to the head from the small metal object expertly aimed.

When Batman looked up from tightening and double-checking restraints on all five drug dealers, Robin was crouching next to the young boy talking softly to him and giving directions to the free clinic to the older brother. As Batman stalked over to the little group, the older boy looked apprehensive, while the child's face was all awe.

"You get your act together and take care of that kid, you understand me?"

A stern glare from the Bat was more than enough to make the poor teen vow to never touch a needle again. Visibly trying to pull himself together, he managed to stutter out "Yess…yes sir…"

And with that the legendary vigilante was gone. Leaving Robin to offer a quick "good luck" and take off into the sky after his mentor.

It was nearly one in the morning when the crime fighters returned from their task to the Batcave. This was hardly late at all for Bruce's usual schedule, but on school nights when Robin was permitted to join him, it was best to return before it was very late, or face the wrath of Alfred. Bruce was at the computer crays, looking into the archives and news sources for news of any new problems, while his ward happily chatted about everything and anything that entered his mind, as he changed out of his uniform and into pajamas.

"…and we've got another parent-teacher meting next Friday. It's at six thirty. You're going to show up this time, right? Unless something really major comes up?"

Bruce roused himself out of his musings to answer. "I'll do my best, chum."

"Okay. It shouldn't be anything big. I'm doing really well grade-wise, and you already knew about the joke a couple weeks ago even before they sent the note home. I really didn't think they'd make such a big deal about it. I wasn't trying to be a problem."

"And the geography quiz today?"

"How'd you know about that already?"

"I know everything. Besides, Alfred told me this afternoon. What happened?"

"I just didn't do as well as usual, no big deal."

"It is a big deal if your grades start slipping. You know our agreement about weeknight patrols."

"I got a B-, not a D or something!"

"On a test you should have been able to sail through perfectly if you'd studied properly."

"I did study, just not as much as I wanted to. First there was the big fight with the Titans this weekend and then the thing with Two Face… And I still got a B+. The quiz wasn't even worth very much. I'll more than make up for it on extra credit."

"That is not the point. The point is that your school and training are starting to suffer because of your activities with the Titans. Perhaps you should skip the Titans this weekend and focus on studying."

"Come on, Bruce! The Titans are counting on me!"

"School and training come first."

"I have all my homework done for the entire week, I've been doing really well at my martial arts exercises, and even you said my acrobatics are in top form."

"Then this is a good time to work on your computer skills and tracking."

"I'll work on the computers after school tomorrow and tracking when we go out next."

"If you can't focus responsibly on your training, you shouldn't be facing danger with children even less fully prepared to deal with it."

"I have a responsibility to Wondergirl, Speedy, Kid Flash, and Aqualad! To help them face danger fully prepared not just demand it of them. We aren't even planning going to go out tomorrow unless something unexpected comes up, just train."

"We will discuss this tomorrow. You need to get some sleep; you have school tomorrow, and I need to take a final patrol. "

"Yes, sir."

Jaw clenched and shoulders stiff, Dick marched up the stairs.

"Remember to brush your teeth and wash your face before turning in, young man." the butler called up behind him.

Bruce shook his head. 'Teenagers! Why did the boy have to start turning into a teenager? This parenting gig was hard enough when they were small and obedient and practically considered your word law.'

"Perhaps before you leave, sir, we could have a word." While Alfred's manner was all casual difference, Bruce knew better than to ignore it. Being on the other side of the parenting equation didn't seem to get easier over time either…

"Yes, Alfred?"

"Have you considered, sir, that you are being rather hard on the boy?"

"He needs to be completely serious and responsible when it comes to his training. One mistake and we'll be sitting at his hospital bed, or worse."

"I am aware of this Master Bruce. I am also aware that a young child, even one as mature and advanced for his age as Master Dick, needs to have a balance of fun in his life. That is why I have insisted that you treat him as a child when he is not involved in your training regime."

"He can get that sort of thing from his friends at school, it's much too dangerous for him relax while with the Titans. Either they should peruse an off time friendship, or to function as a team, the melding of both could be disastrous, and I WILL NOT see him harmed because of his association with them."

"I understand your concern for his safety, but perhaps the greater error lies in letting your fear for him outweigh what is best for him. Master Dick has been placed in a difficult position because of his involvement in your night job. He is both child and adult, forced to live in two worlds but belong to neither. As I understand it, The Titans help bridge the gap between his two worlds."

"Alfred, I just don't understand why he can't get that sort of social encouragement from normal children, who won't be a danger to him."

"Master Dick is not a normal child. He was not one before his parents were killed, and he certainly hasn't been since he set upon jumping off rooftops in tights. Between the parts of him he must keep hidden from his peers to protect his other identity, and the difference in experience and maturity, he is simply unable to relate fully to children his own age. The Teen Titans share a significant part of his life experiences, enabling him to create attachments to them in ways he can not with other children."

"I'll think about it, Alfred, but there are simply too many unstable factors involved in this whole endeavor to know what is best for the children, and that's what worries me."

Alfred paused until Batman was opening the door to the Batmobile before making his final comment.

"Master Bruce, It would do well to remember that despite the difficult time of life Master Dick has entered in he continues to be a far better behaved young man than the average teenager, allowing a bit more independence and a few relaxations in behavior will not change that. After all, all young men seem to go through an experience of finding themselves. I seem to remember one such fourteen-year-old dragging me off to London to learn lock-picking and boxing…among other less savory skills"

"I remember, Alfred."

The early morning patrol of Gotham City was unusually silent, only adding to the Dark Knight's frustration. And then, when the monotony and gloom of worry and self-doubt was broken, the circumstances only served to increase the warring of his mind and emotions. The crisis was an all-night corner grocery store in a rough part of town. It was owned by a large Chinese family, who lived in the apartment above it. Several gang members had walked in, robbed the cash register, shot the college age son at the register and tried to break into the family's apartment. Having heard the gun shots, the frightened parents attempted to protect the children, the father holding a gun. This likely would have ended with more of the family shot had Batman not burst through a window at that moment.

The haunting part of the whole experience was the expression of abject guilt and sorrow father's face. The same questions flooding the through the great detective's mind, were mirrored across the small oriental man's face. "Was he responsible for this, leaving his family to live in such a dangerous area? If he'd allowed his oldest child to live a normal dorm life, rather than help the family, would the boy lie bleeding on the floor now? Was there even anything that one could really do to protect one's children in this dismal world?"

Even more disturbing was the bleeding twenty-year-old's reaction to his parent's worry, as the dark knight stabilized the bleeding before the paramedics arrived. The barely five foot five, young man kept repeating "I'm sorry, Father. I failed you, I failed the family. I should have protected us better…I should have… I'm sorry." No amount of reassuring would calm him. Batman was haunted by his face the entire ride home, but the boy truly consuming his mind, was peacefully sleeping above him as he striped his costume off and drank the tea Alfred had prepared for him. Walking up the stairs to the nursery was tiring task after the full and active day Bruce had just finished, but he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep without assuring himself that the boy was safely nestled in bed.

How he hated arguing with Dick. When he disagreed with Alfred or Leslie he could walk off and do things his way and still know that they'd be there when he came back, but with Dick…With Dick there was the constant worry that something had happened to him, that the boy had been hurt or injured because he'd decided to blow off Bruce's orders. What a beautiful face to cause so much chaos in his mind, and his heart. Dark curls framed the peaceful face of a child, so unlike the expression he saw on this face more and more frequently, the grim determination of a boy attempting to be an adult. Yes, this child was his to guard and his to protect, but he was also his to care for.

Bruce moved towards the desk, cluttered in homework, school books, and an odd object or too, and reached for the note pad.

-Saturday Schedule:

9:00-3:00 Teen Titans

4:00-6:00 Training downstairs

6:00-7:00 Dinner

7:00-7:30 Go over homework with Bruce

8:00-2:00 Patrol

P.S. Don't forget to watch the time, it worries Alfred when you're late -B

And finally, as the clock struck five, Bruce Wayne headed to bed.

'_Fly hard, my little Robin, fly far, but I'll always do my best to catch you if you falter.' _

**The End**


	4. Girls

Author's Note: I wrote this one completely backwards. Most of my stories I write roughly beginning to end, or at least I do the very first few paragraphs and then little pieces I fill around latter. Of this series of one-shots 'Girls' was the one I had the vaguest idea of what exactly would happen in it exactly before I started writing it, so naturally it sort of went it's own merry way and I wrote the ending first and went back from there.

I've never been the parent of teenage boys; in fact, I'm not even a parent yet. But I love learning about parenting, it has the most interesting insights into human psychology and development than any other subject, learning, teaching, social psychology included. And three of the big milestones of development in the teenage boy are: Girls, Girls, and Girls. How you raise a son to relate well to girls while poising as a playboy, is beyond me. In fact, that might be the key to a lot of Dick's unusual dating experiences over the years.

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**Girls Galore**

Dick Grayson tugged at his bowtie for the tenth time that night. Sometimes there was just nothing worse than being ordered into a tux and being forced to socialize with brainless socialites that treated him like he was six. Much less on a school night when the valuable sleepless hours of night could have been spent jumping off building and soaring the Gotham sky, instead of stuck in his own house where the only entertainment was drinks he was too young to have, women he was too young to date, and conversation he was too intelligent (or too sober) to enjoy. 'And people thought being the rich guy's kid was so fun' Phuh! See what they knew. He didn't even like Bruce's public face; it wasn't even the real Bruce, much less including the Batman part of his personality.

Most kids his age thought their parents were the main source of their problems, an attitude Dick, who had spent the last seven years wishing he could see his parents again, couldn't fathom. Bruce wasn't too bad for a replacement parent, and barring abusive or highly neglectful homes, his issues made the arguments about how "my parents never me this so I'm all messed up" seem mild. Not that Dick would trade his life for a normal one, but still, how many sixteen-year-olds have to put up with a half of what he did sometimes? He loved Bruce and Bruce loved him (even if he wasn't very good at showing it), but no one in their right mind would call Batman entirely sane. For one there was the slight split personality, the obsessive drive for perfection, and the fact that his emotional development had been pretty much frozen at age six, when his parents died.

As Bruce's heir, he was supposed come to some of these big functions to prepare him to take over Wayne Enterprises someday. Dick appreciated what the gesture said about his relationship to Bruce, but business really didn't interest him, and socializing with all these snobs **_really_** didn't. It wasn't that he was against the idea of a child following in their parents footsteps, fulfilling their legacy; it was just Dick preferred the idea of following in Batman's footsteps than Bruce Wayne CEO. It was the perfect mix of who he was; he was a third generation acrobat and a second generation crimefighter. As Robin, he followed both sets of fathers. Although they never really talked about it, but he and Bruce had an unspoken plan that should Bruce retire or be killed, he would take up the mantle of the Batman. That was just a much better plan than being stuck at these snooty functions all the time.

"Hey Shortstuff! How's it going?"

"Hi Babs" Despite his current state of teen angst, the Boy Wonder always had a grin for Barbara Gordon.

"Bored?"

"Tell me about it. I don't mind going to these things now and then, but why do we have to have them at our house?"

"I'll have to ask Bruce sometime…huh Munchkin?"

Dick had been in love with Barbara for years; even Gotham PD knew that Robin had a huge crush on Batgirl. He wasn't immune to girls, but up until recently Babs had been the only one that had seriously taken up his time dreaming about. So far she'd never reciprocated his feelings, although the fact that he'd been jailbait up until this spring might have something to do with it, but the unsure teen in Dick worried that she only saw him as a small brother-like colleague. However, none of the facts deterred him from regularly flirting outrageously with her. Even if she did call him embarrassing things like 'short pants' and 'munchkin' in response. Someday though…he was going to get her to acknowledge he wasn't a kid anymore.

"Just wait till this is over. I can hardly get his attention at one of these…He's always so busy being someone else. Although when he's wearing his Brucie mask, a gorgeous red-head has a much better chance than I do, now that I think about it…"

"Again with the flattery. You **_have_** been spending a little too much time at these shindigs, haven't you?"

"Story of my life, Babe."

"Don't you call me Babe, Dicky Grayson!"

"You've joined forces with Alfred, haven't you? Trying to keep me on my best behavior all the time."

"I'm a double agent, sometimes I'm with Bruce and Alf, and sometimes I'm the corrupting influence."

"How about you corrupt some champagne up for me then?"

"Fine, but only a little, and if Alfred catches you, I deny all knowledge."

"Deal."

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Unfortunately for the young Robin, he was currently being closely observed from across the room, by one of the most dangerous adversaries in the world. An over-protective parent figure. The charming host of the party, Mr. Bruce Wayne himself, was using his highly developed mental control to simultaneously socialize with everyone in the room, put on his bubbling billionaire act, and keep a very close eye on his teenage ward. No one could say that Batman let himself be distracted by three of four little interests like running a business, running a city's crime management, maintaining a cover identity, and parenting a young boy. Mistakes were made certainly, but not due to inattention; the world's greatest detective kept strict surveillance on all areas of his life, and that definitely included his child.

Frowning at the obvious intention of the two to procure alcohol, he turned to the other parent involved.

"Commissioner Gordon, How's Gotham PD doing?"

"About the same as usual, still a lot of criminals and nutcases around. Even with Batman's help we sure keep busy."

"Great, great…" The prince of Gotham responded absentmindedly, his gaze obviously on a stunningly dressed brunette.

The graying man fingered his mustache in amusement at the younger man's obvious preoccupation with the pretty girl across the room.

"I see the kids are getting along well."

Bruce turned back towards Dick just in time to see Barbara handing him a glass obviously filled with champagne.

"Did she just…?" questioned the police officer.

"Yes."

"You see the road you're starting down, Wayne? First they grow up, go to college, start dating older people you're not sure about…next thing you know they're supplying alcohol to minors! Time sure flies…"

"I know what you mean. It seems like Dick and I just got back from our trip to the Bahamas this summer. Now he's already knee deep in schoolwork and we're starting to wearing coats instead of jackets. I keep catching myself thinking he's still twelve, reading comic books and playing baseball."

As Gordon gave him his condolences again, Bruce thought over the conversation… Time certainly flew by, and sadly the 'dating older people' was already a major concern, Dick and Barbara had gotten much closer over the years since Batgirl came on to the scene and Dick's feelings were obviously no longer just a crush. As grown up as Dick was for his age and as well as he thought of Barbara, Dick was sixteen, much too young for the type of relationship he obviously wanted with the older woman. Why couldn't his teenager date girls his age like any other teen? But then, Dick had never been average…never been anything but unusual and extraordinary.

Unfortunately, the Bat's worries at that moment were very sound, as his young ward was currently involved staring at several debutants, who were both young to be an actual interest and young enough to actually look fairly natural, thus actually incurring his interest. He had to do something while Babs got pulled away by some twenty-something hunk, who he totally wasn't jealous of for getting her attention.

The woman passing by them was pretty hot too…. Hey…he knew those legs!

Dick grabbed the Dynamic Devil Doll as she finished with the guy.

"Hey, Babs? Do you recognize that woman? The one in the gold strapless thing with ruffles at the end."

"Isn't she a little old for you, Short Pants? What would Bruce say?"

"Just look. And you know Bruce, he would have issues with any girl I was interested in. He's still aiming for that Most Paranoid Parent award. Look how he's been with you recently…"

"Excuse me? What does recently have to do with it? He's been aiming that suspicious look at you since you were thirteen and first saw me in my batboots."

"He just knows you're weakening now that I'm older…"

"Dream on, handsome…I know better than to go after the Bat's baby. Hey, I do know that woman! That's Ca…"

"Selina, I know… What do you think she's doing here? Reviving her interest in high society or up to something? I really don't like the fact that she's obviously not here as herself."

"I don't like it at all. Should we go get the Boss?"

"We'd better warn him at least. I'll go try to get through the platinum army; you'd better circulate and check for accomplices."

"Deal. Be carefull, Boy Wonder."

"You too, Sweetlips!"

"You call me that again, and I will smack the mask right off your face tonight."

"Yes Ma'am."

Passing through the crowd inconspicuously, took him closer to where Selina was casually looking around, moving sensually but pretending it was an inadvertent thing rather than the deliberate ploy Dick knew it was. Coincidentally, the person whose attention she got enough to approach her was the young man who had been flitting with Babs earlier. Dick passed right by them on his way towards Bruce.

"So what brings you to this lovely party?"

"Nothing really, just enjoying a nice party I wasn't invited to."

"You crashed, Bruce Wayne's party? Wow, that takes guts."

"Well there's nothing like crashing a really good party. Right kid?" The last part was directed at Dick, obviously to say that she thought he was crashing as well.

"Uh, sure…"

Selina wondered off towards the buffet with the young fellow on her arm.

He believed her about crashing the party, but not that she didn't know who he was. The only question was if it was just Dick Grayson she recognized. It was times like this that Dick had this feeling that if anyone ever figured out his identity without hardly even trying, it was this woman. The fact that as Selina Kyle or Catwoman, she seemed to be the only person he'd ever seen other than Alfred that could predict Bruce and, more impressively, disrupt his control, was a huge part of that. Which was why he tended to doubt his own instincts around Selina as well, who knew if she could do the same to him sometime.

Dick wandered over to where Bruce was now happily laughing with a young woman and a gray haired man.

"Dick! Have you met Senator Stenton yet?"

"Uh, no, not yet."

"This is Senator Stenton, and his daughter Marigold. I was just telling them about you."

The senator extended his arm. "Lovely to meet you young man, Bruce here was bragging to me about how well you're doing in school, any interest in politics?"

Dick shook the offer hand firmly. "Nice to met you, sir. I don't really have any interest in pursuing politics as a career; keeping up with current events is difficult enough."

"Brucie Dear! It's so wonderful to see you again! And your young ward too! Don isn't it?"

Bounding up to the group was Helen Heinsmen, one of the middle aged gossipmongers of high society Gotham City, busily flipping her hair and pushing out her chest with every exclamation point.

"Uh, actually it's Dick, and I really need to borrow Bruce for a moment…"

Bruce pulled out the charm, smiling winningly at all parties.

"Hope you don't mind….I'll be right back. You know how teenagers can be…"

Bruce slipped his arm around the boy's shoulders as Dick lead him away from the busybody and the surrounding bystanders.

"Thanks, Chum…I've already had to suffer through three conversations with that woman in the last two days."

"You're welcome, but I kind of came on business."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, just so you know… Selina's here. She just seems to being enjoying a high-class party as someone else so far, but you never know. Babs is keeping an eye out for any other trouble in the room."

"No sign of anything else?"

"Nope, she mentioned to someone that she was just crashing. As unlikely as it sounds she might be telling the truth this time."

Dick crossed his arms and looked hard at his mentor.

"You knew she was here already, didn't you?"

"Oh yeah, I'd recognize those legs anywhere. I'll keep an eye on it."

"You always do…"

Dick looked around uncomfortably as Bruce dished them both some punch.

"Problem, Chum?"

"Please never say anything like that to me again!"

"What? You don't think I don't find her attractive?"

"I know you do…it's just the image of you doing something about it I really don't want in my head."

Taking the glass, his posture changed suddenly to all confidence and self-assurance.

"Hey, so long as you owe me big right now…"

"Whatever it is, the answer is firmly and unequivocally, no."

"Geez, you really are in parenting mode aren't you?"

One of the impeccably groomed eyebrows on the world's most eligible bachelor's face, arched and accompanied Bruce Wayne's blue eyes in asking the no-verbal question 'and my child is up to what exactly?'

"I just wanted to start patrol a little late next Friday."

"And you will be doing what exactly instead?"

"I have a date." mumbled the Teen Wonder.

"What was that?" Bruce prodded.

"I HAVE A DATE, OK!" the sixteen-year-old smiled sheepishly, finding the party-goers nearby staring at him.

"So that I'm fully embarrassed by having half of Gotham listen to me try to tell my dad I have a date next Friday, can we drop it?"

"I don't think so. Who is she, and when exactly were you going to tell me you had a potential girlfriend."

"Marcia James from school, and hopefully never."

"You realize, I would have found out eventually."

"That was the plan. Either you wouldn't notice or you'd find out almost immediately because you always find out about everything. Either way, I didn't have to tell you."

"Did it ever occur to you that I might object to not being told before you did this?"

"So, I can go to outer-space with the Titans and it's completely normal, but I have to ask to go on a date to the movies where I'll be back by ten?"

"Pretty much"

"You suck."

"So I've been told." Bruce stared thoughtfully at the boy's face, as if seeing it for the first time and discovering unknown depths. The kid really was growing up fast.

"Have fun, be a gentleman, be home by eleven to join me on patrol, and no you may not take the Ferrari. Understood?"

"Thanks, Bruce." And with big grin, the billionaire's ward dashed off to avoid the two blonde females homing in on them to intersect the charming Mr. Wayne.

"See, I knew I'm not _that_ bad at this parenting thing." he muttered to himself as he put on his best Brucie face.

"What can I do for such lovely young ladies, tonight? Champagne? Caviar? Kisses?"

And Bruce settled himself down for yet another boring party, all the while keeping an eye on his ward, who had gone back to happily flirting at Barbara Gordon. Some things never change, they just grow. He had a feeling Dick's full discovery of girls was going to keep him up at night. Or at least, up later….

**The End**


	5. Fear

Author's Note: There is no greater fear than for your child's life. It causes people to do extreme and unwise things in parenting, because the enormity of the feeling scares them. Maybe you think that's hardly an excuse for what happen between Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson after the Joker shot Robin, but remember, Bruce is always himself, and Batman is extreme, obsessive, and always, always unable to deal with his own emotions very well. The day Batman fired Robin is almost as painful as the day his successor died. So, beware Reader! If I've even captured a half of Bruce Wayne's soul, the agony is profound.

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**Learning to Fear**

Wayne Manor was deathly silent. Just hours ago the house had been rocked with noise and conflict. The quiet now was so far removed from the recent hurricane of emotion that had recently rocked the place that even the very walls seemed frozen in shock. The mood of the house's owner was not helping the atmosphere. Bruce Wayne was in one of foulest moods Alfred Pennyworth had ever seen his employer in. Although if approached he would snarl and verbally attack, if left alone the obsessive brooding silence seemed nearly as bad. The air was full of anger, pain, and self-loathing, filling silence so thickly you could almost touch it. For once they had reached a situation Batman couldn't deal with; for once there was nothing Alfred could think of to help make things better. Dick Grayson had stomped out the front doors of this house, and hope seemed to have left with him.

Even Alfred was clueless about what could be done to fix this situation. The young sirs had never had such a harsh and volatile argument before, and never had the repercussions been so great. They had wounded each other so blindingly, and raged so strongly, that both were now a shell of their former selves. Master Dick had blazed out of the manor in such a picture of pain and Romany temper that Alfred had feared for his safety driving that dangerous motorcycle all the way to New York, and Master Bruce had retreated to his cave, like a hermit crab to its shell, attacking all that disturbed its blanket of misery, self-pity, and despair. Truly his boys were lost and alone this night, and no word from him could help either.

Bruce Wayne sat at the computer crays of his sanctuary, mindlessly going over and over information on Gotham's most dangerous citizens. This cave was usually his place to think, a refuge from day to day life of pretending to be the vapid billionaire he could never be. Normally this was where he was most at home, training, studying, and working to perfect his life's mission. The mind of the Bat was never at rest, never at peace, but here the struggle to master all his skills gave him a release from the constant strain of his life. However, today there was no release, no focus, and no satisfaction to be found. The Dark Knight was shaken, felled by a force no one could have predicted: His son.

Batman was frozen, immobile, unable to function normally, something that Bruce Wayne had worked his entire life to avoid. This experience was now ranked right below his parents deaths as the next worst of his entire life. As if watching his only child shot by his greatest nemesis weren't bad enough, the confrontation with Dick afterwards had been beyond disastrous. He'd never dreamed Dick would react so dramatically to his insistence that Robin no longer exist. The logic was so clear in his own mind and he'd become so used to Dick's unquestioned obedience on the job, that he hadn't counted on the boy's temper and he certainly hadn't expected the extreme hurt that had flashed through his wards eyes before he'd lashed back at him so severely. He had fired his partner, but more significantly, he'd lost his son.

As unlike him as it was, when he'd taken the boy in it had been something of a spur of the moment urge. Not that it was completely un-thought out, Bruce never did anything without thinking it through at least twice, one of the benefits of being able to think with unbelievable speed, but it had been instinctual, he'd known immediately that boy belonged with him. People had been telling him for years that he was pushing Dick too hard, making mistakes raising the boy, and not giving him all the support a teenage child needs from his parent, but he'd soldiered on sure that just as when Dick was younger the structure and emotional release of this life outweighed the disadvantages. Now his entire belief in his mission, himself, and his ability to care for a child had been completely shaken, after years of finally coming to terms with it all.

For the last nine years he'd been warned again and again about the perils of childrearing, not physical danger, but the emotional trauma given to a child. He'd heard them, but chosen to go on with things as they were, sure that his way was better; that the great Batman couldn't possibly be wrong about what was best for his young partner. In the end, in his rush to focus on Robin, he'd forgotten to fully take care of Dick. It had taken a bullet to make him see the light. Not only had his child been injured, but his every failure in parenting had suddenly been exposed, naked to see in gruesome detail. In trying to fix his mess he'd only realized how far he'd pushed the boy away. Dick was gone, and despite or perhaps even because of his intense fear of failure, he had failed most in what mattered most, protecting and caring for his son.

It was inexcusable what he'd put Dick through. There was no excuse, no training, no acrobatic ability, no moral crusade, that made it acceptable to put endanger one's child like that, none! He'd put his son's life in the balance between his obsession for destroying crime and his morbid need perform some form of penance for guilt over his parent's deaths. From the moment he'd seen that bullet speeding towards his child, it had been impossible to deny to himself what his heart had been telling his all along as his mind steadfastly ignored the fact, that Dick Grayson was his son. Suddenly now Bruce's eyes were open to see what it is that worried Alfred, frightened Leslie, and concerned Superman. Bruce himself was a danger to this boy, his boy. A boy who suddenly he had realized in dizzying alarm meant more to him than half a dozen missions or all of Gotham.

Robin was no longer healthy for Dick, if it ever had been before, it certainly wasn't now. Dick had been pressured in everything: to excel in school, to be the perfect child, to learn to run Wayne Corp, to protect their identities, to lead the Titans with the wisdom of Superman and Batman combined, to be Alfred's model gentleman, to be the best superhero in the world without the powers most used, to live up to Bruce's expectations. No teenage boy should live under this tyranny of expectations and responsibilities. Driven as he was as at Dick's age, Bruce himself had never had that many conflicting demands made upon him, and he'd barely made it to adulthood himself, what with the many dangerous and felonious skills he'd rushed to learn.

Dick deserved a normal life. A life without dozens of lunatic villains vying for his head. the inability to be honest and himself with anyone in his life, and an emotionless dictator urging him on past what was humanly possible. The mistakes he'd made in shaping Dick's life he'd made with the mistaken belief that it was in Dick's best interest. He knew now he'd been hugely mistaken on most of those counts, but it was still his duty to do for his son what he thought was in Dick's best interest. Robin had to go, there was no other solution. His partner came second, after his son.

Richard John Grayson did not in any way, shape, or form agree with his father figure's decision, and he had made it beyond abundantly clear to the man who wore the cowl. To the young man that had grown up as The Boy Wonder, Batman had no right to do what he had done, simply state that the last nine years of his life had been a mistake, that they no longer existed. The hurt and resentment that had shown on his face as he had shouted at Bruce had torn at the billionaire's heart even as his anger and irritation had swelled at the boy's inability to see sense and his continued defiance. No matter Bruce's other intentions for being involved in Dick's life, college, Wayne Corp, etcetera …, to Dick it was still an invalidation of his entire person. Unlike his mentor, in his feelings Dick Grayson and Robin were one person with two names rather than two people in one body, and rejecting Robin rejected him in full.

As much as it hurt Dick, as much as he yelled and raged, and hated him for this, Bruce could not, COULD NOT, endanger him again. His entire soul had been divided, marred, broken with the deaths of the two people he loved most in the world. He wondered sometimes if he'd even been capable of love after that day until little Dicky Grayson taught him to love again. What then would happen if Dick were truly killed? The mere idea of Dick's death hit him like a physical punch to the gut, it must not happen! He knew like few others the pain of watching your parents torn from you, how much more would be the agony of seeing your child thus taken? If Dick lived to hate him for the rest of his life, at least he lived. Bruce _knew_ his heart would not live through the day if Dick Grayson died.

To Dick, today had been a betrayal, in his eyes Bruce had rejected him, abandoned him, and found him wanting, but to Bruce Wayne today had been about one issue and one issue only, his ability and responsibility to protect his child. To protect him from Joker, from Gotham, from himself, from Batman, from a life of danger and misery, from this accursed darkness that ever threatened to snuff out the bright light of boy that had kept the very soul of the Bat from its clutches. Batman had been born of pain, agony, and the ever tightening line between the desire for revenge and the reality that revenge and hate was what had cast a small Bruce into this hell. Bruce had taken the boy in to try to save him from the pit of despair and anger he had narrowly escaped, but in the end it had been Dick who had pulled him out of that deep chasm and kept him on the path towards light, despite the darkness they dwelt in. He could not let Dick take the chance of falling as he had nearly done...

Perhaps that was a part of why his mind had always shunned the title of father for himself. Sons became like their fathers…and as much as Gotham needed Batman, as much as the Dark Knight was hope to the darkest and foulest city in the country, he would not wish his existence on any man. It was out of the desire to rid the world of the feeling he'd felt as he watched his mother fall, that Batman's purest strength was born. To save others from such a fate he'd become that awful night of his nightmares incarnate. He'd become the all the players in the play of Evil versus Good: he'd become the fear, the pain, the aggressor and the speaker for the victim, the sacrifice of helpless people laying their lives down to protect what they loved most, the desperation of the man who'd taken his parents lives had become poured into a desperation to finish his task, his fists were fueled by the rage of a little boy unable to do anything to save them, his innocence broken had become the fight to save the innocence of others. To fight something fully, you had to either become the polar opposite of evil and nullify its effects, or you had to know it to the core of its being, take its essence in and be able to strike terror into its very soul as it did to others. Thus was the tragedy of the Bat: into darkness for the pursuit of light, to save lives he had become death, to destroy evil he became the very terror that it fed on.

In all the time Richard Grayson had spend training, fighting, learning, from Batman he had never become a part of the darkness, and his second father swore that now that he never would. This was a fight for Dick's soul and though his own had not become corrupted as the evil of revenge and hatred had wished, it was still forfeit to his cause, and this _would not_ be the fate of the laughing boy he remembered joking with Alfred and chattering at his guardian at the dinner table. He could not sacrifice Dick's well-being for the desire to continue his legacy, the closeness he wanted with the boy, or the light he brought into his life. Though his methods were badly chosen, his intentions were pure. He would go on in darkness, that Dick could live in light.

His child was gone, darkness reigned. The Batman once again worked alone.

THE END of an era


	6. Bold

_Author's Note: Jason Todd is the Robin I know the least about, I've never seen the issues with Jason's entrance into the batclan's lives and I don't have the money to go out and look for it when there's so many other comics I'm dying for, so I've pieced together what I've found out with my own ideas of what the characters would do. I hope it seems fairly accurate, and Jason fans enjoy it as well. Here's to crossing my fingers! _

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**Bold**

Batman watched from above as the Gotham City PD took the operators of the corrupt orphanage crime gang into custody. It was a strange road of experiences that had led him to this bust, and an even more unusual state of mind that was leading him towards this idea now brewing in his head. Surely Dick's absence in his life hadn't thrown him off so drastically that he would contemplate such a dramatic course of action, but yet the idea wouldn't go away…

It had been obvious to anyone that knew Bruce Wayne well, which honestly was a handful of people at most, or those keeping a close eye on Batman's actions, that he had been behaving unusually and been in a foul mood for months. The disappearance of Robin from Gotham's skies had been a solid clue as to the reason for the extreme if not particularly unusual bad mood of the Dark Knight.

It was hard to ignore anymore, despite the other issues of worry or guilt, there was a definite feeling of loneliness within the Batman's soul.

He missed having someone who listened to his every word with interest, having a companion during the nightly vigils, hearing cheerful descriptions of daily activities, having a child's laughter sound around the house, he missed…..

He missed Dick.

How had Dick grown up so much so quickly? Had he truly been sleeping through his child's development to that extent, that suddenly he found himself looking at a stranger, a grown man without the signs of bonds of affection that used to tie the boy to him like a puppy to its master?

It seemed they just couldn't have a calm, sane conversation with each other any longer. His best efforts at the pleasant small talk parents were supposed to have with their adult children, ended up sounding critical and abrasive and Dick was always defensive and angry, even before Bruce's comments set him off fully.

He'd hoped his actions after Robin was shot would be enough to convince the boy to give up the superhero life, but Dick was an acrobat from birth and now he had heroing engrained too far into his life to give it. Bruce was nothing if not stubborn, he would continue to try to convince him to take on less dangerous paths, but Richard John Grayson had learned persistence and immovability at Batman's knee and it could very well be a fight the Bat could never win, particularly since the boy's respect and trust in him was obviously much shaken from it's prior state.

He'd gone to Superman for guidance, a trust built from a little boy's hero worship and years spent enjoying 'Uncle Clark's' advice. It had galled him at first that Batman's partner looked at the alien with such stars in his eyes, but as Batman and Robin grew in ability and trust Bruce's heart had eased, Dick was his child and a little hero worship wouldn't change that. Now though, as their relationship was so strained it hurt that Dick simply went to the Kryptonian for guidance, as though Bruce had never existed.

This though…. this was such an usual idea for a solution to the bat's depression that he was having tenth or eleventh thoughts even before he put it into action.

It had been a dreary night, not unlike any other night in Gotham city, when it had happened. Batman had returned from a tiring chase to find a street child attempting to pilfer the hub caps off his ride home. The mere idea of stealing hub caps off **_the Batmobile_**was so unexpected and daring that he'd been temporarily jolted out of his stupor of gloom.

"What are you doing?" thundered the Bat when he regained his mental balance.

The red-haired youth jumped as he realized the owner was standing in the shadows behind him. Quick on his toes however, he'd turned around and given the terror of the night skies a look half devious cheek and half feigned innocence.

"Uh… Sorry?"

"Put those back."

"Fine. But you have no respect for letting a guy earn a decent living!"

"That is _not _a decent way to earn a living. Where are your parents, young man?"

"What is it to you?" brash defiance, pure grit, and suspicion the top of the boy's dirty red hair to the scuffed and obviously too small shoes on his feet.

Eventually, he'd gotten the boy to confide in him, and he'd been determined to find him somewhere better than the streets for this orphaned boy to hang out. He'd been trying to do the boy a favor by having him placed in the home for troubled youth, but in the end it had been Jason that had done Batman the favor.

There was something about this boy that drew him, despite his obvious show of flaws and problems, or perhaps because of them. It was more than just the urge to help him, this was stronger, more, and it frightened him to think he was feeling this again when his first attempt had gone so badly.

In his own way, this boy was as bold and daring as his first child, perhaps even more so than Dick. Jason lived his entire life with the fierce joy of danger and unrelenting fearlessness that Dick had when he dived off a ten story building or mastered some daredevil stunt worthy of his circus upbringing. Jason had such potential for greatness, and such likelihood of only fulfilling the potential of a gang leader if left where he was.

He wasn't Dick, he wasn't a replacement or replica for Robin, but he had potential to be more than he was now, to learn to prosper and become the young man he could be. Strong and resilient, bold and brave, Batman couldn't help but admire the survivor's spirit he knew so well in himself.

As the hustle and bustle of the scene below slowed down, one figure remained in its calm almost motionless stance leaned against the building watching the action before him. The young red-head now stood smirking up at the dark shadow crouched on the roof. The Batman gave an almost imperceptible movement almost like a salute to young teen, whose face reflected his notice of the action with a self-satisfied grin as he watched the almost invisible figure of the Dark Knight of Gotham disappear into the night.

He'd saved a child from social services before; perhaps the time for a son _**had**_ come again. Bruce Wayne was going to become a parent again.

**End Chapter**


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